Tag: Short Fiction

All Stories, General Fiction, Short Fiction

The Edge of Dreams by Tom Sheehan

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Buzz Turner, all 12 years of him, reader galore, all the thick and curly red hair in place, saw the moon slip sideways into his eyes just opened for the change, dragging him instantly from a deep sleep into clear observation. He loved the transfer in the heavens, as well as the sudden change in himself, a keen awareness coming his way, all the way. It was all magic, and he loved it, a boy’s swift change in himself, a piece of the skies at hand, and mystery afoot the way mystery makes itself known, on its own time, in its own style, dream-like.

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All Stories, Literally Reruns, Short Fiction

Literally Reruns – Crisis Line by Rerun Harrison Kim.

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I had three paragraphs written for Harrison Kim’s Crisis Line, but I discovered that I had nothing to say on the topic that Kim didn’t say better. So, the good news is that I am smart enough to have realized that, and the better news is that Mr. Kim is around to answer my questions.

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Latest News, Short Fiction

Week 375 – What’s Wrong With Tom Brown? Squealing Like A Pig And It’s Refreshing For An MP To Be Watching Adult Porn.

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Week 375 is upon us.

My turn once again after the brilliance of Leila and Daisy’s problem page!!!

I have an update!

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General Fiction, Short Fiction

Rain Lady by Abigail Louise Lowry McCormick

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I don’t usually pick up hitchhikers, but this was an extra rainy Vegas morning. There she was, a little old lady standing in a puddle, bundled up in a poncho and one gloved hand jutting straight through the rain with an outstretched thumb. It was five a.m., and nobody else was on the road. What could I have done? My damned Jiminy Cricket conscience forced me to stop there, so she wouldn’t get hypothermia.

“Much obliged,” she said when I pulled over to the curb and popped the convertible’s side door open. “Such a nice young lady.”

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All Stories, General Fiction

Donating Love by Amber Hart

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Edmund eased the donation truck into the woman’s driveway. He thought he had been here before, to this exact house, when spousal donations had first become a trend. It should not have surprised him—the courts ordering such a thing. With the divorce rate at nearly 70% now, the courts had to do something.

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All Stories, Fantasy, General Fiction

Is It Me or My Talent You See? By Cy Hill

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I sit down at my desk to work on the script’s first draft and open my right-hand drawer.  A 25 cm man leaps out and slaps my face.  You might not think something that small could pack much of a wallop, but he does.  In the beginning I could handle him, but he grows larger and more brazen every day.  I put him in there to teach him who’s boss, but since that did not work, I grab him in my fist.

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All Stories, Fantasy, Science Fiction

Be Aware, the Hand That Feeds by Stephen Oram

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Clara runs her fingertips across Rose’s palm and analyses her sweat. “You need food,” she says. Rose looks down at Clara, her small human-like daughter, and mutters her agreement. Hand in hand they saunter along in search of sustenance, checking each restaurant as they go. What they want is an elegant meal in good company for Rose, and a beautifully presented snack of kitchen waste biofuel for Clara. Up ahead, Rose sees a few friends, also hand in hand with their little helpers, walking into one of her favourite places to spend a lazy afternoon. Not wanting to miss out Rose speeds up. Clara tries to hold her back, but Rose drags her along until they reach the door. Clara resists going any further, but Rose gives her one almighty yank and Clara relinquishes her determination.

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All Stories, Science Fiction

Cryobaby by Sean Burke

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“Got any juice?” I asked Stewart when he pulled up. 

“Hello to you too,” he said, as his helmet collapsed into his collar.  He pulled a charge off his vest and tossed it to me. 

“How long she been up there?” he asked, shielding his eyes against the hazy, setting sun as he looked to the top of the bridge.

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All Stories, Crime/Mystery/Thriller

Modern Entertainment by Megan Wildhood

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The man who pit this roof against rain, his best friend and owner of the final store in town, the woman who pits seed against element to feed me all my life, our humdrum hay baler, two others I didn’t know and I sit in a circle in Shopkeeper’s empty store. These are our Friday nights now after the litany of systems failures. “Supply chain-issues,” Papa mumbles when it comes up. “Just the economy cycling again, actually,” Shopkeeper grumbles. “No one believes us about the mass injuries,” the two guests basically whisper.

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